In defence of Hope. Fathers matter

By Sibo Lefalatsa

You will remember that Livhuwani introduced me to you all by referring to a talk I gave about the place of men in the family. The place of course is here, there, everywhere, wherever your family needs you and wherever you have something to give, it’s not a place per se it’s a presence.

I have a love for this topic because I’ve often felt unique in my experience, while many spoke of their grandmothers I spoke of my grandfather. I’m a mother, with a second on the way, there is no doubt my kids need me, no one doubts the need for a mom but I am a big advocate for dads, that the love that exists between them and their children should be respected. I’ll take it a step further, I actively push for it, I just want my hubby to be able to be himself and his son to just know him, they’ll work out the rest themselves. Let’s be honest, in our communities, in the way people speak, both men and women, men are encouraged to be these hovering entities who perform a role instead of being allowed to just be there, chilling, laughing, playing, bored, excited, interested, tired, annoyed.

So that’s why I want to share just two of my favourite memories of my dad and grandfather, just for the heck of it, they just happened to be there and made these memories happen.

First memory:

It’s the day before my wedding, 7 years ago, the church grannies have arrived in their numbers to help prepare me for this momentous undertaking. Seated around me and each given an opportunity to leave me with a word for the journey. Lo, it was about 1 and half hour of negativity.

“Marriage is tough, you are now about to enter a life of misery and tears”

“Men are cheats, all of them, oh your man is a Mosotho? Well prepare, Sotho men in particular are the biggest cheats, they have a certificate in cheating”  J

“You’ll wet your pillow with your tears, that’s how tough it is, but yes please make sure to do so quietly. There’s no need for the man to know you’re upset with his mom”.

“A man is a crocodile, what you’ll be sleeping next to in bed is a crocodile!”

“You modern women, your husband’s are afraid of you, we’ll tell you what they want, they want you to wear dresses not pants and if you do insist on these trends cover your butt with a long top”

It went on and on…

Then, suddenly my dad stood, he’d been there all along but I hadn’t noticed him in the cacophony of misery. My dad, normally does not do the emotion thing, he’s the guy you go to for the “go to school, do well at school, toughen up, you can do it” type of dad. I go to him for the “300” or “Braveheart” just before an epic war moments rah rah rah!!!!!! talks, he will get you off your, oh poor me moment and get you ready to kick some serious butt! Defeat? What is that?

That guy, stood up amongst those grannies and said “S’bo, you deserve to be happy in marriage. If we  believed that we were sending you off to misery we wouldn’t do it. Please believe that you can be happy and we want you to be happy”

I love this. I live by this. That he stood up right there and then, not waiting to talk to me in private afterwards, that he spoke directly against what they said. My Hope was restored. What those women said may seem funny, 7 years later, but they did affect the way I saw Hape and not in a good way. Can you build something walking in with that kind of hopelessness, anger, distrust? Sure you may be preparing me for what might actually happen, but it also might not.

My dad, I suppose being a man was a little wounded by such assumptions and I’m glad for it. I understood, I had to give my hubby a chance and I wasn’t being sold into slavery. My family, not knowing for sure either, Hoped for me a happy marriage. That was all I needed to hear, misery is not a given, defeat is not inevitable, I can fight for mine and my family’s happiness, we could try.

My nature is a fighting nature, I’m not naturally inclined to endurance. Give me a fighting chance and I’m up for it, and that’s what my dad gave me with those words

Second memory:

It’s a little over 2 years ago, not long before my grandfather passed away and we are in Durban for our regular family visits and hubby and I are sitting chatting away with my grandfather and then he points to a Mfeka family portrait that now includes hubby and our son and says to my husband 

“That’s my pride, that picture. I’m very proud of this girl, I’m very proud of her”. And then he carried on with whatever he was talking about, I can’t remember.

You know I’ve found, sometimes to my own amusement, that I’m not the kind of person who needs constant affirmation of self, in fact I’m pretty good at affirming myself, thanks. I mean I appreciate it, if I can get it, but I have a tiny group of people who occupy my inner space. I often wonder why that is, especially whenever someone has commented on my attitude. My perception is that one of the main reasons for that is that I got all the affirmation I ever needed or will ever need, from men I loved dearly and who loved me even more.

When my grandfather was at death’s door, I was anxious to drive to KZN asap. I was certain, given how close we were he’d wait for me before he left. He didn’t…

I searched for feelings of disappointment at this betrayal of our close friendship, and there was none. He had said everything there was to say, the day he told me and my hubby of his pride in me, a pride I thought I already knew and yet it meant so much more to hear him actually say it. To the extent that Sibo was concerned, the man had done his business and there was nothing to chase after him for.

So potential dads, this is why you need to fight tooth and nail to be present as yourselves not personas for your daughters and sons (and their mothers, we need a lot love to darn it J):

Growing up and even now, when a man or woman, anyone really, but especially men insult or mock me or try to bully me, I always think, “I’m loved by men who sacrificed a lot for me and my wellbeing, I would never, on God’s green earth insult them by taking your word for who I am over their word, I have far too much respect for them.”

I’m not saying that every child growing up with dads and grandfathers thinks like me or that without dads they can’t be confident and strong. I’m not even saying everyone should be so self-assured…actually no they should, every woman deserves to be self-assured, not just that bombastic “we’re all beautiful” talk, I mean we’re not all beautiful and we’re not all beautiful all the time, so what?...

I mean real self-assurance, based on receiving the unearned love and pride of God your Father and God-willing, the love and pride of a father here on Earth.

I’m just sharing a story, that’s all. If you as a man knew that there is a chance, even a small chance in the midst of the world’s madness, that you could give that kind of self-love and self-assurance to your son or daughter, wouldn’t you do it?

Well now you know…